The Fluffy Fic
by One Fic Too Many
Summary: Observations are made, plans are hatched. Can Anderson and Cronus keep their secrets from GForce? Or will they all be thwarted by the latest Spectran attack? And will the Swan ever land her Eagle?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Battle of the Planets is owned by the Sandy Frank Corporation. Gatchaman, by Tatsunoko. We make no money out of this work of fiction.

**Editors Note: **It seemed a harmless idea - a BotP Round Robin, nicely fluffy and Mark/Princess. Little did we know that it would take on a life of it's own and be continuing over 100,000 words later!

This particular fic is a collaborative effort - and if you check out our Author Profile, you will see the perpetrators involved. Yes. It's still going. Strong. And shows no signs of ending.

We have taken a few liberties with canon here, as well as added in a few of our own characters. We hope that you enjoy these characters asmuch as we have in creating them.

No. It doesn't stay fluffy for long. Yes, we did try to drag it - kicking and screaming - back into fluffyness.

Anyway, we hope that you enjoy what we have come to call "Fluffy". Reviews and comments are always welcome.

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Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she peered down into the training room from high in the observation booth. She had the index finger of her left hand pressed into her bottom lip, which was separated from her top lip by a curious and in awe five millimetres.

Her right hand switched between sitting loosely on her hip, and pressed against the glass. It's position changing in time with the movement down in the gym.

Her concentration was such that she didn't hear the soft chuckled arrival of the youngest member of the G-Force team.

Keyop raised a brow at the doorway and nudged an elbow into Tiny's hip. "Broop, breep, watch this," he whispered mischievously as he snuck up behind the deadliest woman in the world.

The kissy-kissy noises started off virtually inaudible, made by a simple opening and closing of his lips over his teeth. They soon escalated and smacked loudly, fracturing the silence with an echo that not only alerted Princess to his presence, but also drew a stunned and embarrassed gasp from deep inside her gut. She spun and leaned her back up against the glass in a pathetic attempt to hide the scene behind her.

"Key … Uh …Tiny?" She gasped staggered. "What are…"

"HA!" Keyop belched after a short serries of breeps and broots. "Caught watching Markie-Warkie."

Sure the sentence was stated as fact, but there was still an underlying question that he dared not voice.

Was she watching Mark? Or perving on someone else?

'Somebody talking about me?' Mark swaggered into the observation booth, smirk on his face as he ruffled Keyop's hair. A towel was slung over his shoulder and his wet hair clung to his face and neck.

Keyop crinked his head up to look at his commander. 'Well, if not you... Jason?'

Mark twisted Keyop's head to show him Jason, who was slumped against the door, coffee mug in hand. He raised his eyes to meet Keyop's, revealing them to be bloodshot, like he'd not slept all night. Keyop's eyes flickered at Mark, then swivelled to meet Tiny's, and the two of them ne4ar stampeded to the window to see who Princess was watching.

Down on the padded mat was a most unexpected sight - a pair of men, clad only in Gi trousers, sparring heavily.

Colonel Cronus and Dr. Anderson.

Mark and Jason also moved to the window, and all five watched the older men sparring.

"It's not really hit me until now," said Princess' soft voice, "that the Chief ever was anything but the Chief."

They all winced as one of Anderson's blows connected heavily with Cronus, knocking him off his feet.

"I'd never even really thought that he could fight, let alone this well," she continued and turned towards the others. "How many years have we known him? And why don't we know more about him? Or Colonel Cronus, for that matter. I had no idea he was on the base."

The four boys exchanged glances. Princess was on one of her "caring missions" again.

"Perhaps the Chief doesn't want us to know?" suggested Tiny.

Mark, however, shook his head. "If he didn't want us to know, then why choose here and now for this session? And why with Cronus?"

"Picking on someone his own size," burbled Keyop. "We'd kick butt."

Jason had been watching the fighters intently. His eyes may have been bloodshot, but his observation skills were still as keen as ever.

He watched the Chief of Security land another blow and smiled grimly. He knew that move. He knew what the outcome would be. It was a favourite of his. He turned to Keyop. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, squirt," he said softly. "Princess' right though. What do we know of Anderson's past? I mean Mark, Prin and I grew up with the man, but he did have a life before us."

"And we know so little about Cronus, anyway," finished Tiny thoughtfully.

"I want to find out more," said Princess firmly. "Those two men know all about us, but we know nothing of them." She grinned suddenly. "Call me paranoid, but don't you think it's strange that possibly the only two people who could take us out are two people that we have to trust with our lives? And anyway, I hate this sort of mystery."

Mark was looking thoughtful. "There have to be records somewhere," he mused. "All we need to do is find them."

Jason had perked up. "Gonna take planning," he said. "And balls. Somebody's gotta search the Chief's office and his private quarters."

"You volunteering?" asked Keyop

"Nope. Just stating a fact."

Princess was watching the fighters again. "I want to know. I want to know how they met. Why they're friends. Why us." She turned from the window. "Who we are."


	2. Chapter 2

Colonel Cronus twisted his upper body to evade a perfectly aimed punch and grabbed a hard hold of Anderson's wrist. The pressure of his thumb against Anderson's Radial Artery made the doctor curl a lip in annoyance.

Cronus refused to let go; instead he twitched the very side of his mouth into a sneering grin. "Your pulse is racing, old man."

Anderson let out a short laugh and swept Cronus' left leg out from under him with a swift kick at the ankle. Both his hands sat on his hips as Cronus landed unceremoniously on his ass. "Who are you calling old man? You've got three years on me."

Cronus propped himself up on an elbow and smirked. "I've also got more cajones than you."

Anderson rolled his eyes and extended a hand to help his sparring partner to his feet. His eyes caught sight of five faces at the observation window, one of them pressed hard enough to squash his nose against the glass. He made no outward movement to indicate to the quintet that he'd seen them. "We have an audience."

"Good," Cronus huffed as he used Anderson's leverage to draw himself to a stand. "Maybe they'll learn something."

Anderson swallowed as he tried to steady his heavy breathing. "You'd think that after 3 years of successful missions you'd begin to cut them a little slack."

"When they stop behaving like little girls and cry every time they don't get their way, then maybe I will."

Anderson huffed as he strolled gingerly toward a bench on the side of the mat to retrieve a bottle of water. He didn't offer Cronus any, nor did he respond, until he'd drained the small bottle. When he did finally speak, his voice was low. "You were exactly the same when you started out, Cronus, and, if I recall correctly, you were a lot older than they are."

Cronus narrowed his eyes for a brief moment, then crouched low and invited Anderson to continue the fight with a 'come here' flick of his fingers. "I was never a cry-baby mommies-boy."

"And neither are any of my team."

Cronus remained in his crouch, still waving his fingers in invitation. "I've seen Mark cry more times than I've changed my underwear."

Anderson stood in a relaxed manner with one hand in his pocket successfully ignoring Cronus' request to continue the training. "He's been through a Hell of a lot for a man his age. The boy just sometimes needs release."

"Then get him laid."

Anderson's eyes rose briefly to the window, and then dropped back down to Cronus, who was crouching lower. "I really don't think…"

"The Swan is interested, let her turn him into a man."

"Sex is not the answer."

"Worked for me."

Anderson huffed and threw the empty bottle into a trash receptacle. "Jesus Christ, man."

"Look," he raised himself into a stand and slouched to one side. "The kid is wound up tighter than a virgin's…"

"Don't even say the word," Anderson was quick to interrupt.

"Get the boy a blonde, then. They're always good to go." He raised a sly brow. "Unless he's gay, then invite the Condor to have a go."

Anderson rubbed at his brow. "If Jason heard you say that, he'd skin you alive."

"He might be a more eager training partner than you. Jesus John, are we going to fight, or sit here like women?"

"Mark," Anderson breathed as he began a slow circle of Cronus. "Is not gay. He doesn't need me to line him up with a woman. Hell, the boy probably has a rampant sex life outside of this compound."

"He's too anal-retentive to be getting it."

"I could say the same about you."

"Fuck you."

Anderson smirked and thumbed at the side of his mouth. "It's been a while, eh?"

Cronus narrowed his eyes again and curled a lip. "That's dangerous ground."

"Ha!" Anderson threw his head back, but lowered it back to look at Cronus just as quickly. "Maybe the lad could teach you a little something."

"Give me the Swan for an hour and I'll show you just how much I don't need to know."

Anderson lunged quickly, body slamming into Cronus, who was not expecting such a swift attack. "Suggest something like that again, and I'll hand you off to Spectra, myself."

Cronus let out a low and pleased growl. "Finally, a fight worth having."

"How about I repeat your offer to Princess? I'm sure then you'll have a fight on your hands."

"What are you talking about, fight?" He smirked as he spun and kicked towards Anderson's head. "She'll probably set a date and time."

Anderson oomphed as Cronus' heel struck his stomach, but recovered quickly. "After she's finished throwing up, you mean."

"Oh, that's just juvenile."

"It seems it's contagious. Christ, Cronus put some effort into it, will ya?"

Cronus took a breath, snarled, and then palm-punched Anderson in the stomach, following up with a twist to throw him up over his shoulder. "Then put Mark in here with me for an hour, let me beat some maturity into him."

Anderson's feet skidded awkwardly along the mat, but he managed to remain almost on his feet after the throw. "You'd never survive him."

"He's nowhere near as skilled as his old man, John."

Anderson finally stumbled down onto a knee and panted as he looked up at Cronus. "One day he's going to find out. You know that, right?"

Cronus shrugged and let his gaze wander up to the observation window. "No he won't."

Anderson took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Curiosity will get the better of one of them soon enough, Cronus. They might not have snooped yet, but they'll try it eventually."

"Damage control, then. Make sure the information they get is wrong."

Anderson stood up and shook his head, lowering into a crouch mirroring the one Cronus moved in to earlier. "That's all they've been getting, Man. It'll come out eventually."

"Not if they don't have reason to look, John."

Anderson flicked his eyes upward, and then refocused his attention on his sparring partner. "Enough talk, let's do this."


	3. Chapter 3

Princess bottom lip was slowly sucked in between her teeth as she watched the two shirtless warriors fighting it out on the mat. The plans for the intelligence reconnaissance mission proposed by she and Jason were being discussed in detail she wasn't really listening to.

It wasn't until Tiny called her name that she even registered their presence behind her. In response, she let out a small whimper of appreciation towards the ace Rigan pilot.

"He is so handsome."

Keyop gagged, Jason coughed on the last dregs of his coffee, and Tiny dropped his jaw. Mark was the only one who actually spoke up, his voice little more than a shocked whisper.

"What did you just say?"

Her eyes widened in self chiding when she realized she hadn't used her mind's voice to compliment the Colonel. She bit at her lip, turned, and lowered her head shyly to her Commander. "Nothing."

"No," he replied with a perplexed shake of his head. "I heard you. You said that the Chief is ... handsome?"

That was the single hardest statement he'd ever had to make.

Her mouth widened and she looked quickly between her four team mates. "Oh Gosh, no. Not the Chief. Definitely not him."

Jason cleared his throat of coffee and tilted his mug at her. "I heard you say it, Prin. I lost coffee over it"

"Me, broop, too." Keyop agreed with a fast nod of his head.

Princess gasped, screwed up her face in disgust, then tilted her head to her shoulder and let a lazy smile creep across her face. "I mean Cronus. He's so ... dreamy"

Tiny and Jason immediately laughed. Mark looked positively mortified ... and perhaps a little jealous. Keyop, well the kid didn't know what to think.

It was Tiny, though, that thought to ask the burning question.

"Why?"

Princess pressed her finger coyly against her lip and let her lips stretch into a dreamy smile. "Oh, I don't know. There is just this whole aura surrounding him that is so…" she sighed and swayed a little. "It's just…"

"But he's a dick," Mark responded, perhaps a little more flustered than he intended.

Her eyes flicked quickly to her Commander. "I thought he was your idol?"

Mark nodded, lowered his eyes and shrugged. "Well, yeah, as a pilot." He looked back up at her, surprised that she seemed a little offended. "But as a human being … well…"

"He's an asshole," Jason offered, still amused, but slowly falling into the 'big concerned bad boy brother' demeanour.

She swished her hips and turned her back on them as she raised her nose to the ceiling. "You're just jealous."

"Try grossed out."

Mark nodded in agreement with Jason. "Yeah, he's old, Princess. " He shuffled from one foot to the other. "I doubt he'd know how to treat you right."

She smiled and tilted her head sideways towards him. Her eyes lazily followed. "Older men know exactly how to treat a woman right." Her eyes blinked slowly. "Better than you guys would, anyway."

"Oh hang on just a minute," Jason interrupted, his red eyes finally beginning to clear. "Don't go making assumptions, now."

She pursed her lips and took away eye contact from Mark and Jason. "Well, assumptions are all I have. It's not like someone," emphasis on someone, "is willing to prove otherwise."

Mark's lips pursed and his eyes widened in a definite "oops".

Jason rolled his eyes, starting to become a little disgusted with the sudden digression from mischief making to Princess' latest crush. "You know why old men treat a woman 'right', Prin?" He didn't let her answer. "Because they are incapable of getting it up to treat her like the dirty little…"

"Oh, crass, Jason." Mark responded shortly. He cocked his head to the side to regard Princess for a moment. "This is just a look, don't touch, thing, right?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

Jason didn't like the way that word left her mouth. "Oh come on, Prin. He's old. He's old enough to be…" he raised his hands, palms up, as if searching for the right word, something worthy of grossing her out of this admiration. "God, he's … he's old enough to be." He looked at Mark, finally settling on the right argument. "He could be Mark's dad, for all we know."

A single brow rose on Mark's forehead, the gesture asking Jason what drugs, exactly, he had to be taking to come up with something like that. "What!"

Princess' smile widened and she batted her lashes, "all the more reason to … admire him."

Jason and Mark, both, looked at her. "What!"

"Well if I'm not allowed to have the real thing…."

Mark's body shuddered as she strode back to the glass and lightly tapped the tip of her finger against it. Even though the two men weren't looking at her, she knew Mark and Jason were … so she blew a small kiss down to the gym.

Jason nudged Mark. He nudged him hard with his forearm against Mark's shoulder. He didn't need to voice anything; his look said it all. "Stop wasting time, man. Do it."

Mark coughed silently and looked back at his second with his shoulders raised and hands held a foot apart as if to say, "do what?"

Princess turned, and both men immediately switched into relaxed stances, the projected innocence being somewhat betrayed by their forced blank facial expressions. She raised a brow and dipped her head in suspicion. "What are you both up to?"

Both shrugged innocently with shakes of their heads.

She looked at Keyop. "What were they doing? Making fun of me, again?"

Keyop's eyes widened, and he raised his hand to cup his ear, as if straining to hear. "Huh? What?" He shrugged at her. "I think I hear the Chief calling, I should …" He bolted out of the room before he could be dragged into any dispute. Tiny was close behind, muttering something about Space Burgers and wanting to stay out of it.

Princess leaned her back up against the glass and shared a brief look with Jason as she leaned her rump against her hands. The cheeky smile that started to spread across her face made Jason roll his eyes and Mark look bewildered.

"So. What do you think my chances are?"

"You're not serious?"

"Deadly serious, Mark."

Mark took a step forward and raised his hand to put it on her shoulder. He hesitated and let it hover for a few seconds before he dropped it back to his side. "He's not right for you, Princess."

"Well, what about…" she slowly eyed him up and down, opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head. "Never mind, Commander."

"What about what?" Jason asked with another nudge at Mark. Mark curled a lip and growled at Jason in warning.

"Did you know," she began softly, "that I am 19 years old and I've never even had a real kiss."

Mark cleared his throat in discomfort. Jason looked at her through his brows. "And you want to play tonsil hockey with Rat Bastard?"

"God," she said on a long breath. "I'd take one from anyone right now." She stopped quickly and raised her head. "Except you, Jase. No offence, but your morning breath…."

Jason grabbed Mark by the shoulders and shoved him towards Princess. He stumbled before her and stiffened when he felt their chests touch. He took a couple of quick, short breaths, then half closed his eyes and puckered up.

Princess coughed loudly and let out a long groan. "Geez, Mark. Way to make a girl feel wanted." She glowered at Jason. "I didn't know the thought was do disgusting to you."

Mark was quick to defend himself. "No, no, Princess. It's not disgusting … Oh …" he awkwardly ran his hand over his fast-drying hair. "It's just not how I … uh … gee." He looked to Jason for salvation, but his second merely smirked and backed off.

"No, no, Mark. Really it's okay." Princess should have tried to force disappointment, but it came on its own. "I understand."

Mark turned seven shades of red, and glowered in the direction of Jason. "Princess, it's not … oh …uh." He began to back out of the room. "I really want to…uh …do…" His flashing bracelet made finishing the sentence unnecessary. He waved his wrist at them to show them he had a reprieve, and then jogged out of the room, dropping his gym towel on the floor as he ran.

Princess huffed as her commander bolted, then shifted her eyes to Jason and held out her hand. He groaned and dug into his pocket for $10.

"I don't think you tried hard enough, Prin."

She smiled and held the money to the light as if to check its authenticity. "I can't believe he really fell for it."

"You were pretty believable, hell. I was beginning to think you had a thing for the old man."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head lightly. "I admit I find him intriguing, but I am definitely not … interested." Her head tilted innocently. "I'm all into Mark, though."

"As if that wasn't painfully obvious to everyone."

"Except him."

Jason shrugged. "Oh he knows, Princess."

She nodded with a sigh, and looked back down into the gym, now empty. "Wouldn't it be strange if you were right, though."

Jason lit a cigarette with a match, and shook it out before he flicked it into the aluminium bin beside her leg. "Right about what?"

"About Cronus being Mark's dad."

"Doubt it."

She flicked the tip of her tongue over her top lip in thought. "It would explain a few things, though."

Jason raised a brow, but looked doubtful. "Well, let's find out."

She smiled widely. "Great!"

"Better enlist the kid to help us get in to the Chief's office."

She giggled. "This will be fun."


	4. Chapter 4

Mark was holed up in his room. He was still reeling from Princess admission in the obs. room, trying to make sense of his own feelings.

She loved him, didn't she? So why on earth was she talking about coming on to Cronus?

He flopped back onto his bed and groaned. He wanted her. Loved her. Always had done, but she knew! She knew that he couldn't do anything while he was her Commanding Officer. Cronus and Anderson had both drummed that into him.

But he knew that didn't change his heart. He was starting to be unclear how him denying his love for the girl would make the team more effective. As it was, he and Princess spent most of their time miserably apart, when they could be together.

His own way; his own time. He wanted so badly to kiss her. Wanted so badly to be able to show the world she was his.

Her admission that she'd never really been kissed had jolted him to his groin - he had thought that she'd had at least one boyfriend.

Not that he'd ever had a steady girlfriend, but he wasn't a virgin.

She was. Him. She'd been waiting for him.

He sat up. His own way. His own time. He'd make sure that her first kiss was from him.

He'd make sure that all thoughts of Cronus were wiped from her mind.

She was his, and he was hers.


	5. Chapter 5

Jason reached out and placed a hand against the glass on one side of Princess's head, then leaned forwards and rested his chin on her opposite shoulder, watching the pair sparring in the gym below.

'Didn't know they had so much energy at their age...'

Princess raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and poked Jason in the ribs. 'He did used to be an active agent, you know.'

'Once upon a time... in a solar system far, far away. Wasn't he the one that got the Rigan's onto our side?'

Princess nodded and took a deep breath in, smelling the mix of the Condor's natural earthly musk and the cigarette. Gods, she could do with one right now, after what she just pulled on Mark - imagine, him actually believing that she'd never kissed a boy - but she was trying to quit, just like she'd promised Tiny she would. That was their deal - she quit smoking, and he didn't reveal their private little secret.

'If not for them, we wouldn't have the firebird technology for the Phoenix... we owe them a lot, Jason. Probably more than we know. Ever noticed that look in his eyes when anybody mentions them, and he thinks nobody's watching him?'

Jason nodded, the faint stubble from a couple days worth of beard growth scratching Princess's shoulder. 'Ever looked in his journal, when we were younger?'

'He had a journal?' Princess turned her head, breath playing across Jason's ear. He felt the hairs on the back of his arms and neck raise slightly, and once again pushed thoughts of her out of his mind... any other man, and he'd consider her fair game. But he'd never undercut his brother like that.

Besides, his girls had a bad habit of ending up dead, or worse.

'Kept it in a secret compartment in his desk, in his office... I only saw it the once, and it was never there again. Figured he knew somebody had read it, but didn't know who, so just hid it better.

"Anyways... seems he met somebody out there. Somebody special, and apparently rather high up in the royal family."

Jason cast a sidelong glace at Princess, whose mouth was a perfect 'O' shape and whose eyes glistened.

'Skipped a few entries there... too mushy for young me to deal with. But, far as I could figure, the rest of the family found out, and was none too happy... some kinda deal was made, whereby he would never set foot on Riga or have contact with them - outside an official capacity - ever again, and they would keep swapping the technical expertise and know-how we needed.'

'Poor Chief.'

'Stupid Chief, more like. I mean, can you imagine, being so hung up on one person that you'd abandon romance for the rest of your life?'

Jason took his head off Princess's shoulder and looked at her intently.

'Then again...'


	6. Chapter 6

Anderson spared a glance at the window above them, seeing Jason and Princess there and groaned.

"Too much for you, old friend?" asked Cronus.

"You? Hardly. It's that pair I'm worried about," he replied, gesturing at the window.

"Jason and Princess? I can understand Jason, but why would you worry about Princess?"

"How little you know," muttered Anderson. "All of my grey hairs and most of my worry comes when those two team up. Princess has the ideas, and Jason carries them out. Trust me, she only looks like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth." He smiled briefly. "Just like her mother," he said softly.

Cronus picked up on it, and looked sharply at his friend and at the window.

"You think they're up to something?"

"I know they're up to something. You did notice Princess' little display earlier."

Cronus grinned. "I most certainly did."

"Don't even go there, Cronus. You put a move on Princess and I really would have to kill you."

Cronus flung himself down against the wall, and looked again up at the pair at the window and at his oldest friend. A horrible suspicion started to move through his mind.

"John, where did you find those two? I'd lay several large bets that neither of them are fully human. Jason's obviously got quite a lot of Spectran blood in him, and Princess, well; I'd have to say she's Rigan. Not the normal sort of orphans you pick up off the street."

"You know that information's classified. I can't tell you. Even if I wanted to."

"If not me, then who? You want them to find out themselves? Jason, I think I've worked out. His parents were obviously from Spectra. From what you have told me, they tried to defect. Princess on the other hand, is the real mystery. Even she doesn't know who she is."

"How do you know that?"

"Mark. He's quite a font of information about her. Or at least, what there is to know about her."

"Princess' background is none of your business. When she wants to know, she'll be told. Just keep away from her. I meant what I said before. And if you try anything with her, don't think that I'll be the only one after your red hide."

Cronus looked at Anderson, who was looking uncharacteristically fierce. 

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear that you had certain aspirations towards her yourself. If not that then..." he paused and looked directly at the girl above. "My god, John. Why didn't I see it before? Everybody thought she died with her mother. How the hell did you manage to get hold of her?"

"Do you really think I'm going to answer that?"

"No wonder you won't let her attend Rigan functions."

"I don't let her attend because she's been too young. That's the only reason."

"And you can't keep an eye on her. Can't make sure that she's not recognised."

Anderson looked at Cronus and told the most barefaced lie of his life. "I have no idea what you're talking about."


	7. Chapter 7

Anderson's receptionist-slash-secretary was a hard-core military-trained woman. She'd had 10 years of active combat before being relegated to a desk, which was irritating to the team for a small handful of reasons, the main one being that she would totally call them on all their shit.

No matter what the team tried, she was immune.

And she was smart … Oh Heavens did she give them a run for their money.

Mischief and mayhem simply did not work with this woman.

Jason called her the "Iron Curtain", the assumption being that nothing, no one and no how got past her without her knowing the most intricate details about it. Princess assumed, however, that the "Iron Curtain" comment was far more seedy and insulting that Jason would care to admit.

She assumed that he'd probably tried to … open her curtains … so to speak.

She'd heard a rumour that he had tried to use his charm to sneak through to the Chief's office when his keys to G2 had been confiscated after an illegal street race bust. She'd been immune, though, apparently. Unaffected by the Condor's husky charm, and completely disinterested in anything he had to offer her, she'd given him a verbal slap across the ass and sent him along his way.

Oh she bet Jason must have been pissed off.

She got an inkling of his ire towards Sgt. McCoy when she'd suggested he try and distract her so she could get in to Anderson's office. He'd muttered something about frigid old hags and how he would rather amputate his own … member … than try and come on to her.

Ooh that was harsh.

Amputation over implying he'd rather have sex with a man? That had to be the ultimate insult.

Jase was proud of his little Jason – sorry - king-size, ultra-length. King-Kong, Titan super sabre shlong. He'd die a million painful deaths before he'd amputate.

So, in other words, he truly loathed this woman.

It took them about five minutes of heavy discussion and a squeal of disgustingly feminine fear at Keyop's pet tarantula from Princess for them to decide on their mission parameters for Operation "Get Rid of the Secretary".

If Princess – the woman who would wander into a heavily fortified Spectran base and face Zoltar without breaking a sweat or batting a lash – could be so scared of a little hairy eight-legged critter, then surely the stone-faced warden of the main offices would be, too. So long as all rolled up newspapers and magazines were outside of her reach, the critter could scare the bejezus out of her without being squished and they'd be free to ferret through the Chief's office.

Keyop had taken much bribing, however, and they'd lost precious time. Jason had to promise to allow the boy to drive the G2 once, and solo, in order to use the hairy critter, and Princess had to promise a pizza/Nintendo night with no curfew what so ever.

Big sacrifices on both parts…especially to Jason, whose eye had developed a slight twitch since Princess finished the bartering.

So now they walked towards the Chief's Office, and Sgt. McCoy's desk. Princess walked as close to the wall, and as far from her little brother, as was possible. Jason appeared not to be bothered, although his eyes were definitely on the mammoth arachnid. The spider, named Fuzzy-Butt, was proudly perched on his owner's shoulder. He didn't move, but Princess felt all of his eight eyes watching her, and made sure the rolled newspaper was secure and ready in her hand … just in case tarantulas jumped.

Sgt. McCoy lifted her eyes slowly as the threesome approached. Her professional smile quickly faded, and her eyes rolled and she looked back down at her paperwork.

"Security Chief Anderson is unavailable at the moment. You'll need to come back later."

Princess gave her most innocent stance, both arms straight and taut, held together at the hands, behind her back. She had her hip slightly tilted to the side in a purposeful slouch, and her head dipped shyly. "Then maybe we could just wait for him in his office?"

Jason's eyes rolled upward at the sickly-sweet way in which Princess spoke, but said nothing.

Keyop smirked and petted his pet spider. He dipped his shoulder toward the Receptionist's desk, which allowed the spider to drop gently on a pile of papers in front of her. He let out a small chuckle, "oh, sorry."

McCoy froze, and raised a brow at the spider rearing onto its hind legs, but showed no other outward reaction.

Keyop seemed pleased, and smiled with closed eyes at Jason. He pressed both hands onto the edge of the desk and lowered himself to be at face level with his pet. His eyes caught the receptionist's. "Do you like my pet? His name is Fuzzy-butt."

"Please get that insect off my desk," she responded in controlled tones, obviously desperate not to show any emotion.

Rather than attempt to correct her on the incorrect identification of the insect's family classification, Keyop thought he'd play cute. "Aww, but I think he likes you. Look, he wants to dance."

Princess shuddered and tried vainly not to show her own morbid fear. "Is that thing safe, Key?"

Keyop shrugged and stroked the spider's back with the very tip of his finger. The sound that came out of his mouth seemed to be "I dunno" but the hummed way with which it was spoken made the actual words unrecognizable.

McCoy cleared her throat. "If you don't get rid of that thing, Swallow, I will kill it."

"You do, and I kill you." A well hissed threat.

"What?" Jason asked as he chewed on a well-tooth-beaten shuriken. "The big, bad Sergeant doesn't like a little spider?"

She raised her eyes to him and clicked her tongue in disappointment. "If you kids have no message for Security Chief Anderson, then I'll have to ask you to leave. I'm very busy."

"Oh come now," Keyop chirped. "You can touch him." He gave the spider a little push with the tip of his finger. It wandered a couple of inches closer to the woman, who recoiled and turned her head away from it – but she kept an eye on it.

"Get that thing out of here!" She snapped. "You can be sure I'll Report this to the Security Chief if you don't."

Keyop raised a brow at Princess, then turned back to the receptionist. "Fuzzy-Butt just wants to play." Fearing his pet may become a splat, Keyop reached down gently to pick him up.

Unfortunately a small cricket, and escapee from the base's Entomological labs, chose that exact moment to leap up onto the desk, then onto the perfectly crisp green uniform of the receptionist.

Fuzzy-butt leapt, literally, into action.

Before Keyop could blink, or react, the spider leapt on to the Receptionist's chest.

Princess' and Jason's eyes widened in expectation.

There was a moment of still, where the air seemed to vacuum out if the room … and into the chest of Sgt. McCoy … and then a scream. The scream started out as a low, hoarse warning, then escalated into a shrill, more panicked sound as the spider chased its bounty up onto her shoulder.

McCoy stood bolt upright, took a breath, then let out another scream. "GET THIS THING OFF ME!"

Keyop started to panic. "Just stay still, let me get him."

McCoy didn't allow the young boy any time before she kicked her chair out of the way, and bolted – still screaming – out of the office.

Keyop was half a step behind her. "Don't you kill him! Don't hurt Fuzzy-butt!"

Jason and Princess watched with wide eyes as the two of them left the office. The screaming sound quickly moved away, no doubt to the ladies' washroom. They took a brief moment, glanced at each other, and burst into laughter.

"Oh God," Princess panted, barely able to take a breath from her exploding laughter. "That was brilliant!"

Jason's face turned red as his breath exploded from his lungs, and he let out a snort as he struggled to inhale. "Did you think she'd be able to move that quick?"

"With that outfit on? Nope."

Jason wiped at his eyes. "That, alone, almost makes loaning Sweetheart to Keyop worth it."

Princess nodded and tried her absolute best not to have to snort an inhale herself.

Fortunately the booming voice of Anderson from the hallway stole any laughter she had left in her.

"What on God's green Earth?"

Jason's eyes immediately widened, "Did he give up swearing for Lent or something?"

Princess coughed and all to quickly adopted her most impossibly innocent stance. "Shhh," she stifled a laugh. "He's gonna be ticked."

Jason shrugged and leaned his shoulder up against the wall beside Princess, waiting for the Chief's entrance.

Anderson entered the outer part of his office with an annoyed stride. Two steps behind him was Cronus, who seemed mildly amused. They took a look at the two birds doing their best to look innocent and shook their heads.

"I should've known," Anderson huffed.

"Hey," Jason breathed as he rose his hands, palms out, in innocence. "Blame the kid. Prin and I don't walk around with giant, fucking spiders on our shoulders."

"Jason," Princess breathed in warning. "Language."

Cronus smirked and took a seat in the waiting area. He knew this might take a while.

Anderson took a couple of breaths, raised a finger to speak, thought better of it and huffed out a long-suffering breath. "Oh, you are both going to come up with one Hell of an apology."

"Why?" Jason hissed. "It was the kid's animal."

Princess pursed her lips and looked to Cronus for assistance. He shook his head and leaned back in his seat.

"Somehow," Anderson said slowly, "I get the feeling that someone put Keyop up to this. He doesn't EVER take that damned spider out of his room."

"First time for everything."

"Are you … arguing with me?"

Princess groaned. Okay, this was going from fun to just bad. "Jason, come on, let's go."

Anderson shook his head. "Oh no, not so fast. I want the two of you in my office now."

Jason let out a huff, Princess sighed, but they did as asked. Cronus followed them closely, curiosity abounding.

Anderson immediately notified Mark to join him in the office and then started on a litany about their supposed behaviour and disrespect to Base personnel.

The tirade lasted a long ten minutes before Anderson was forced to drink a glass of water to wet his throat. Jason seemed completely unaffected by it, while Princess, quiet with her head down, seemed pretty close to crying … or laughing … it was hard to immediately tell.

Jason finally leaned in to Princess when Anderson turned away from them to refill his jug of water. "Cronus, you and Mark in the same room."

Princess' eyes widened. "And?"

He smirked. "Twenty this time."

Princess' head titled sideward. "Only twenty?"

"You want to break me, Prin?"

She let out a giggle, and was immediately silenced by a low growl from Anderson. "Are you two about done with your shit?"

Princess sucked on her top lip to stop a giggle. "No," she whispered to Jason, "he didn't give up swearing for Lent."

From the front office, McCoy (who must have recovered from the spider attack) shakily greeted the Eagle Leader.

Jason gave her a little nudge. "It's a dare and a bet, Princess."

She closed her eyes and let out a short breath. "Okay." She rolled her shoulder, flicked her hair and slid across the floor toward Cronus. He looked up at her as she coyly leaned across him to retrieve a tissue. She made sure to let her shirt hang forward to give him an eyeful of white lace. "Excuse me," she purred low and sultry as she slowly rose to a stand, then lowered herself into a seat on his armchair's armrest.

"There's simply not enough seating in here. Do you mind?"

With an innocent roll of her shoulder, she raised her head to see her commander standing in the doorway, his mouth as wide as Anderson's, watching her.

Jason watched the other people in the room. Cronus looked like somebody had handed him a bomb, Anderson looked furious and Mark... Mark looked hurt. At that moment, Jason began to regret this game he and Princess had started. They hadn't meant to hurt Mark, only to tease him a little. He tried to frantically signal Princess, but Anderson's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"G3, I did not tell you to sit," he said, voice cracking like a whip. Princess looked startled and sprang up. Anderson pointed to a spot beside Jason, and she moved to that spot. Her eyes were huge, and she didn't dare look at Jason.

Instead, she looked at Mark, and recoiled at hurt and accusation she could see in his eyes. She hadn't intended to hurt him. She tried to desperately convey that with her own eyes, but he deliberately looked away. Princess looked at the floor. At the ceiling. Anywhere was better than meeting that hurt blue gaze.

Anderson looked at Mark. "Commander." His voice was cold, hard.

"Chief. What's up?" Mark had been genuinely puzzled at the summons.

"We have a disciplinary situation here. G 2 and 3 have been playing childish pranks on the Sergeant."

"Princess?" Mark sounded genuinely surprised.

"Don't play ignorant, Mark. You know how these two work. I've overlooked a lot of their actions, but not when it disrupts work."

This time, Mark looked directly at Jason and Princess, and glanced down at the frantic flicking of Jason's fingers. Bugger. They'd started the mission without him. He sighed.

"They will, of course, apologise to the Sergeant," he said. "I'll take care of the disciplinary matter, Chief."

His eyes narrowed. "Nice to see you here, Colonel. Anything G-Force can help you with?" His tone was deliberately provocative, and Cronus managed to smother a smile.

Damn, the boy was growing up fast. "Just a social call, Mark. You might say I was catching up on things."

"Then you won't mind leaving whilst we discuss this matter."

"On the contrary, Mark, I would like the Colonel to stay," said Anderson. They were up to something. He looked at Cronus and saw the barely perceptible nod. Oh yes, his team had definitely just made the first move in a game of information and mis-information.

He frowned as he saw the resemblance between Mark and Cronus and made a note to keep them from being seen together too much. The resemblance was getting too noticeable - and one of the team would pick up on it.

There was one matter, however, he intended to nip in the bud.

"Mark, I leave this in your hands. You and Jason are dismissed. Princess, stay here. I want to talk to you about your behaviour this morning."


	8. Chapter 8

Cronus stood and walked out of the office. He didn't want to be there for this next little passage. If the girl was anything like her mother, he wanted to be well out of the firing line.

Princess sat demurely on her chair. Her knees were pressed tightly against each other, and her hands were lightly cupped together atop her knees. Her head was lowered and breathing soft.

Anderson regarded her for a long 60 seconds before he finally spoke. His voice was controlled and low.

"Is it working?"

She hiccuped and raised her head to him. "What do you mean?"

"Your little game against Mark?"

Her head tilted in forced confusion. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he strolled to the front of his desk and leaned his rump against the edge. "You know, exactly, what I am talking about, Princess."

"No," she said with a fast shrug, "I don't."

"Then let me educate you." He removed his glasses and polished them with his handkerchief. "For the past month you have taken every opportunity to flirt with any male who happens to be in your presence whenever Mark is in the room. You cease your flirtations immediately after he leaves." He took a breath and raised his glasses to the light to make sure the lenses were free of dust. "You seem to constantly be conspiring with Jason…"

She coughed loudly to interrupt him. "If what you are assuming is true, what business is it of yours?"

He paused at her interruption, the clearing of his throat indicating the level of his annoyance.

Still, she continued. "Whatever I chose to do outside of team business is absolutely none of yours."

"When it encroaches onto my base, then it is every bit my business."

She let out a long huff. "Then, fine. I will remove myself from this compound and have my fun and games in the outside world where I am not being monitored by cameras and being spied upon."

Anderson wasn't wildly impressed by her response. "That's brattish, even for you."

She dipped her head to her shoulder and arrogantly rolled her eyes upward. "Whatever."

"I would appreciate it, also, if you would cease and desist from pretending to make a move on Colonel Cronus."

"Who says I'm pretending?"

Anderson was silent for a minute, his gaze harsh. "Just stop it."

She tilted her head and batted her lashes innocently. "But he's so handsome. And wouldn't you prefer that I date within the Federation, rather than pulling a Jason and taking Spectran spies?"

"I'm not amused, Princess."

"I'm not trying to be funny."

Anderson finally replaced his glasses and folded his arms across his chest. "Cease and desist immediately, or I'll have you on report for misconduct."

She leaned back into the chair slouched in an unladylike position. "Jealous?"

"Excuse me?"

She rose from the chair and slinked by him towards his jug of water to pour herself a drink. As she passed, she let a fingertip drag along his forearm. "Are you jealous that I'm more interested in Cronus than you?"

His eyes darkened.

"I mean, really," she poured a glass as she spoke, "it must be hard to be in constant competition with someone like him. Strong, handsome, rugged, manly, a true combat hero."

"Princess, that's just about enough," he snarled, low and dangerous. "This new attitude of yours isn't as sexy and adult as you like to think it is."

She shrugged and coyly bit on the rim of the plastic cup. "Some would argue that." The grin widened. "One or two already have."

He ignored the suggestion that she was less than innocent. "It's disgusting, and a complete detriment to the image of the Swan."

Her eyes widened and the cup was removed from between her teeth. "Which would only matter if I did it in birdstyle. Jesus, Chief. What is the real problem here? Surely it's not the shattered image of the Swan that's the concern here."

He rubbed at his chin. "Mind games are cruel, Princess. Your Commander doesn't deserve…"

"Oh, ho ho…wait just one minute," She quickly interrupted with her hands raised to stop him. "My Commander has been dragging me along, playing his little carrot-dangling games for five years. If he has so little thought or desire for me to do anything about it, then he deserves to see me have as much fun with whomever I want, whenever I want."

He humphed in disagreement.

So she continued. "If I want to enjoy men, and all there is to be a woman, then God Damn it, I'm going to."

"The Federation is not your playground."

"Oh, talk about your dual standards."

A single brow rose on his forehead. "Meaning?"

She began to pace. "Dual standards, you know. It's good for me, not for you. Do as I say, not as I do."

"I don't see where…"

"I mean, Hell. Jason is systematically sleeping his way through the compound in a competition with one of the Rigan Pilots. Mark has seen his way through one or two of the girls in the Hangars, Tiny is dating the girl from the cafeteria." She raised her eyes and glared at him. "But not me. No, anything Federation is completely off-limits to me." She let out a long snort of disapproval and raised her head level to his. "And here I was thinking sexual discrimination in this country was illegal."

"We're in International waters, Princess. There are no laws here."

Her eyes and mouth gaped at the response. "I … can't … believe you…this…God! You are all just a bunch of sexist pigs who want me to play your little naïve and innocent lapdog."

"I … we expect you to have respect for yourself and your team. Playing the team tramp by…"

"What did you just call me?"

Anderson paused. There was venom in her voice he'd never, ever heard before. He thought back to what he'd said and honestly couldn't quite remember what just spewed out of his mouth. "Uh?"

She was livid. "Who in the HELL do you think you are!"

For the first time since he'd known her, Anderson began to see just how frightening she could be. Her form almost seemed to double in size as she stood tall and raised her head and shoulders to glare down her nose at him. He gave a minute tilt of the head. "I am your Superior Officer, Princess."

"Superior, yeah, right. More like sanctimonious, self-right…"

His fist hit the desk, hard. "Enough!"

She jumped at the sound, her body recoiling and shrinking. "But…"

"This behaviour, your little games, your inappropriate conduct around Federation staff with stop now."

She shakily folded her arms and tried her absolute darndest not to look as embarrassed and small as she felt. "So am I also to assume you will be pulling Mark, Jason and Tiny in to your office for the same discussion?"

"No."

"What! That is NOT fair!"

"Life isn't fair, Princess."

"Not in a world run by male chauvinist pigs, anyway."

Anderson let out a long breath, then pulled himself off the desk and approached her. He lifted his hand to place it reassuringly on her shoulder, but snapped it back as she recoiled hard away from him. "Princess, it's for your safety that I make these rules."

"Funny," she huffed as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Jason is the one who seems to pick the Spectran bed-partners, yet I am the one you're stifling here."

"It's for your own good. Jason is more than capable of handling himself." He sighed, "and anyway. It's better for you to be careful and chose your partner carefully."

He gave a short laugh. "Just because my name shares an adoption certificate with yours, doesn't mean you can pull the protective Daddy act on me. You aren't my father, and have no right to pretend to be." She stood with her hip slouched to one side. "If the boys can play, so can I."

"Princess …"

"And if I want to go off chasing Rigan pilots and their Colonel, then sobeit."

That long-suffering sigh blew slowly out of his mouth. "Cronus is definitely off-limits. Take one of his pilots if you HAVE to…" he paused only briefly when he saw a twitch of a smile play on her lips and she lightly mouthed something along the lines of 'been there, done that'. He tried to ignore it. "Although I'd caution against it, but leave HIM alone."

"Why not Cronus?" Anger was slowly being replaced by curiosity. "I read his lips when you two were sparring, I saw him say he was interested."

"Because I said so."

"That's not a valid reason."

"Yes, it is," he responded with mild irritation. "It is reason enough for this conversation."

"I'm not satisfied with that."

"Tough."

"God, you are so full of it," she snapped. "You can't just order me not to indulge in something on my personal time without giving me a reason why not."

"Yes I can."

She shook her head. "No, you can't. There is no written policy regarding intra-federation relationships – unlike the code you had draw up for the G-Force team – so, if I chose to romance Cronus, the guy in the garage or even President-fucking-Kane, there is sweet F.A. you can do about it."

"You want to challenge me on that?"

"Damn straight."

"Fine." He hissed, as he grabbed the phone and dialled 7-Zark-7's extension. "You're grounded. You aren't to leave this base for any reason for two weeks." He spoke in to the phone and informed the robot of the situation. Then he turned to a wide-eyed Princess. "If you're still on this little vendetta of yours after that time, I will extend it again, and then again, until you grow up."

"That's … just … wrongful detention. You can't do that."

He smirked, "I can and I have."

She was silent for a moment, formulating a desperate apology. Then, she paused and looked up at him when she realized just how much more opportunity this would give her for a good snooping. "Well," she began slowly. "If you are so willing to send in the team one man short for their next mission, then that's fine by me. I could do with the break."

Anderson's brow rose, very slowly. Oh she was plotting again – heaven help him. "Then … this conversation is over."

She nodded. "I guess so."

Anderson's voice was slow and a little cautious. "Then, if there's nothing further."

"Dismissed?"

He nodded, "dismissed."

She gave him an exaggerated G-Force salute and turned on her heel.

He watched her leave and felt a sudden feeling of dread. She was up to something.


	9. Chapter 9

Princess walked out of his office to be greeted by Mark and Jason. Both rose quickly from their chairs.

"So" Jason asked curiously. "What happened?"

She let out a displeased huff. "You mean aside from discovering that the Federation is a sexist hole intent on forcing me into a life of celibacy and obedience?"

"Meaning?" Mark seemed happily curious.

"Meaning that I am not allowed to ever have a life." She pursed her lips. "No, sorry. I was given permission to date a Rigan pilot, if I so desire. But anyone else is off limits."

Jason scoffed. "He said that?"

"Amongst other things." She sighed. Her eyes widened in irritation. "Oh, and he called me tramp. Do you believe that? A Tramp, me!"

Both Jason's and Mark's expressions changed from curious to insulted. Mark was the first to say something. "I'll speak to him about that."

She flicked her wrist. "No, don't bother. I guess I was behaving a little trampish …"

"Hardly," Jason muttered, a shuriken in his teeth.

Mark nodded. "It's an uncalled for insult."

She shrugged, then removed her wrist-com and handed it to Mark. "Oh yeah, I'm grounded until further notice."

She dipped her head to her shoulder innocently and swayed her body. "I was … a little insubordinate in there."

Jason dropped his head into his hand. "Good God, Prin."

Mark shook his head. "No, this is too much. All you did was," he cleared his throat uncomfortably. " Was flirt a little with … ahem … Cronus."

"No, no," she said with a smile. "This is good."

Jason shared a look with Mark. "How is that good?"

"The chief is only here during the da-y-y-y." She sang the last word in an all-too-chirpy manner, "and I am stuck here day…and night…for the next two weeks."

"Uhuh?"

"No one around to bust me for snooping. With the vehement way he was demanding I stay away from Cronus, there has to be something totally juicy to find out."

Jason smirked. "Maybe Cronus' your dad?"

She shuddered and stuck out her tongue in a gagging motion. "Ugh, that would be just sick."

Mark huffed, "Princess, like. Do you really….You know?"

She closed her eyes, opened them again, then sighed and walked toward Mark. She cupped the left side of his face and lightly kissed his right cheek. "I prefer another pilot," she whispered with a long, sultry stare hot enough to remove any doubt about to whom she was referring to and make any mere mortal growl and shudder. She backed off and giggled. "Oh, gosh, golly, gee. Naughty me, touching Federation property. Anderson will be ticked."

She backed off and turned, raising her hands above her head in a full-body stretch. "I guess I'd better get to Keyop and lay down some ground rules for my detention. If I don't warn him against it, the little bugger will be throwing parties and staying up all hours at our house.


	10. Chapter 10

Tiny Harper was worried. He had no idea what mischief Princess was up to, but he knew it was dangerous.

All that crap she had spouted about never been kissed - but then, when he had walked in on her and the young Red Ranger pilot, they hadn't been kissing.

Kissing, however, was usually a prelude to what they were doing.

He'd had it out with her later, and spent hours offering comfort when he discovered it had been a reaction to seeing Mark kissing one of the female pilots, and hearing her brag on another occasion about his stamina, amongst other things.

Their girl had become a handful in the last 10 months. Before, he and Jason had been able to keep her fairly well under control by pointing out that Mark wouldn't like her behaviour.

That had changed with her discovery that Mark had been seeing other girls. Neither he nor Jason could convince her that it wasn't serious, that the girls Mark saw had certain reputations.

But he could understand. She'd refused all other offers until then, wanting to keep herself for her Commander, and everybody had imagined he had done the same.

He'd been horrified to find that the Red Ranger hadn't been her first lover. She was still devastated that her first lover hadn't been Mark. 

Finally, he had come up with their arrangement. She'd quit smoking (Tiny knew Mark hated smoking with a vengeance) and she'd quit sleeping around. And he wouldn't let on that he knew about it all. Especially to Mark.

But now, she'd started another, even more dangerous game. She'd taken to flirting with any male in the room when Mark was there.

And Jason was encouraging her.

Tiny knew he had to have it out with Jason - he'd already had to use his fists to discourage some of the comments being made about her - and he knew that Jason would immediately put a halt to their game if he knew just what was being said.

Unfortunately, some of it was true. Her previous playing around hadn't gone unnoticed, either.

He prayed to all the gods in the heavens (including the Spectran ones, just for good measure) that Anderson never heard the ugly gossip.

Then he added a more fervent prayer that Mark didn't.

If Jason would be mad, Mark would be ...

The last thing they needed was the Eagle on the rampage, defending the honour of his beloved Swan.

Tiny raised his bracelet and tapped the code for Jason's private channel.

"Jason, Tiny here. We need to talk. About Princess. There's stuff you should know."


	11. Chapter 11

Amongst the general workers of Centre Neptune, it's commonly thought that there is one medical section, and various first aid stations. Down amongst the high security levels, however, there is another, with only five beds, but the greatest collection of medical and specialist equipment on the planet.

Or any other planet, come to think of it.

The G-Force medical sector is manned by five nurses and two doctors per eight-hour shift as standard. If the team was injured, however, the doctor count was boosted to one per injured member, and as many nurses drafted as were needed.

Which was why, when Tiny Harper wandered in with a blanket wrapped form over his shoulder; the well-trained staff directed him to his diagnostic bed. Tiny, however, shrugged them off and instead headed over to Jason's, dropping the blanket on the bed and unwrapping it to reveal a very battered - and very unconscious - Condor. There was a pause of at least a half minute as the staff just looked from Jason, to a battered looking Tiny, to Jason again, finally moving into action when Jason stirred and groaned.

Tiny allowed his self to be led to his bed and checked over. Carefully removing his shirt, an almost perfect boot mark that appeared to match Jason's size was revealed over his chest and ribs. The Doctor raised an impressed eyebrow.

'Think you might be winning the bruise of the week contest there, Mr. Harper...' He ran his hands over the rest of Tiny's torso, checking for broken bones or sore points. The Doctor jerked his head towards Jason's form.

'What happened to him?'

'He met my fist.'

The Doctor winced slightly. He knew just how strong Tiny was, having done a few physicals on him - on top form, he could bench-press almost half a ton. Tiny's fat wasn't fat at all, but incredibly developed muscle. The downside to this was that physical exertion tended to take a lot out of him, which was why he needed to eat so much and to sleep so often.

'And why, exactly, did he meet your fist?' Condor's gonna be pissed when he finds out his nose has been broken," - again, he mentally added, pleased his shift would be over in a half hour.

'He was being disrespectful of Princess.'

Rolling his eyes in a 'god-save-us-from-knights-in-shining-armour' look, the doctor threw his stethoscope onto the bedside table and sat in a chair, arms folded and legs crossed.

'Spill it, Harper, before I get Anderson down here and you can tell him.'

Tiny deflated slightly and looked almost sheepish.

'We-ell... it started when he met me in the obs room...'


	12. Chapter 12

He finally found her pacing the observation deck. Usually, there were a few off-duty personnel there, but it looked like Princess had scared them off.

He watched her fondly as she paced, he could see her body was taught, quivering with the force of whatever emotion she was feeling.

She was magnificent.

His own way. His own time.

How could he have wanted other women when she was there? 

But... Anderson and Cronus had been so insistent. No inter-team relationships.

Well, screw that. He'd finally recognised her game when she told them about her grounding, and had felt flattered that she'd gone to those lengths.

She really hadn't had to.

His beautiful Swan. All he ever wanted.

He stepped in the doorway. "Princess," he said softly, walking towards her.

"Don't come near me, Mark. I'm not safe."

Laughing, he ignored her and pulled her into a swift hug. "Sometimes, you're even more of an idiot than Jason. I've spoken to Anderson."

Reluctantly, she pulled away. "The plan, Mark. We want me grounded."

"Yes, but we want you on missions. I pulled rank, and you'll go on missions." He clasped her bracelet around her wrist. "I'm not going out one man down. "

"I suppose I should thank you." she was slightly sullen. The bloody team again.

"Perhaps. I also asked him what went on. I believe his approval was for a Rigan pilot." He ran a finger down her cheek.

"Is this some sort of revenge, Mark?"

He moved closer, and she could feel his breath ghosting over her cheek as his mouth moved towards her ear. "I'm a Rigan pilot, honey."

Swiftly, he pulled her in close, his mouth moving and capturing hers in a loving kiss.

She felt her heart soar and her whole body tingle in response to that kiss, that kiss she'd been dreaming of for years.

It was over too soon, voices in the corridor causing him to pull away, but not before he again caressed her face with his finger, and not before she heard his breathed words in her ear. "And I'd better be the only Rigan pilot in your life."

Then, he was gone, sitting on the other side of the room by the time the door opened. She stood stunned, looking at him in astonishment. He raised his eyes from the magazine he had picked up and winked, before raising it.

She laughed out loud then. He'd be mortified when he realised that the magazine he seemed to be reading so intently was "Vogue".

She moved towards him, wanting to rescue him from immanent embarrassment when she realised that the people entering were a group of Red Ranger pilots.

The one in the lead caused her to stop in her tracks, a small sound of distress coming from her mouth.

It was enough to galvanise Mark into action. Long years as a team, long years loving, watching her, had made him sensitive to her every move. He stood and walked over to her, putting his arm around her shoulder, feeling worried as she seemed to collapse slightly against him.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

The Red Rangers steps had been a deliberate unison as they made their way towards the observation deck. Just as deliberate was the mission to which they were coming to now carry out. With a whoosh the door had slipped open and they had strolled in. One forward the other slightly off to his side and only a single step away.

Greeted by the commander of the team, tension and rivalry began swelling. Neither officer immediately offered an explanation for why they were now there. The second just seemed to hold a bemused smirk as he looked from a stack of magazines, to the Mark, and then on to his partner. Making a sign the other was sure to find incoherent. He just shook his head.

The other paused giving him only a sideways glance as he questioned with a quick.

"Do what?"

The tall pilot looked sideways at his silent friend, concentrating hard on the sign language. When done, he gave a smirk and a small shake of his head. "Nah-h-h," he drawled long and lazy with a thick Okker-Australian accent. "Not him, it's that Bastard Condor we need to see."

Mark snorted. "Still a disrespectful little prick, aren't you, Shinji."

Shinji, his hair mussed from hours in his flight helmet, smirked as his team took up relaxing positions in different areas of the room. "Fuckin' oath." He caught sight of Princess leaning into the Eagle and gave a broad grin. "Babe! Didn't think I'd catch you here." He quickly shot forward and pulled her from Mark. She was drawn into a quick, but hard, kiss on the mouth.

"Hey," Mark warned low as he pressed his palm against Shinji's chest to push him off Princess. "Private property." He watched Shinji raised a brow and pulled Princess back to him. "You didn't answer my question. "

"Heh," Shinji chuckled. "Isn't it usually how we can help you?" He pressed his finger to his lips and frowned at Princess, who was looking at him desperately to keep his mouth shut. "Mint Lip balm, Babe? That's not your usual flavour."

Princess' eyes widened in horror as her mind cursed the obviously body-language-illiterate Flight Lieutenant. Mark read the implication and responded dryly. "No, it's mine."

There was a chuckle from one of the other pilots behind Shinji. "She's back…"

"What was that?" Mark snapped.

Shinji stifled a smirk and shrugged a shoulder. "Ignore the dogs-arse with the TV remote. I swear he's a fuckin' nut case. All he does is talk shit, and normally to himself."

The pilot responded to his Lieutenant with a distracted flip of the bird.

Princess' response was quiet. "Charming behaviour."

"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Do you want to watch the language, there's a lady in the room."

He shrugged, and then got a cheeky grin. "So, babe. Playing tonsil hockey with the Boss?"

She groaned, Mark snarled. "Her name is Princess, not Babe."

"Actually her name is Sarah."

Mark's eyes shot open and he looked toward Princess, who had palmed her forehead in distress. "You two are on a first name basis?"

Shinji gave a shit-eating grin and looked as though he was about to say something pretty seedy, but a pleading look from Princess forced him to change direction. "Uh … yeah. Nah. At the club a few weeks back, she asked me to hold her purse during the wet t-shirt competition. I found her ID card."

Princess let out the smallest of whimpers.

Shinji caught on and inwardly groaned. Behind him, two Rangers snickered. "Uh … well… not that she was a participant, or anything. No, uh … "

Mark seemed to gloss straight over the whole wet t-shirt thing, but went straight for the ID topic. "You rummaged through her purse?"

"Ahh, fuck," Shinji replied, irritated that Princess was playing miss innocent, again, and he had to cover for her. "It was her round, the bar-wench brought the drinks and I took the money from her wallet. The ID simply fell out." He hoped that was sufficient. It was a better response than her telling him her real name before they got down and dirty.

Mark gave Princess a concerned look. "Since when did you start hanging out with the Rigan Guys."

She sighed and pulled gently away from him. Her response as she strolled past Shinji and knuckled him in the ribs was barely audible. "About the same time you started hanging with the Rigan women."

Shinji exaggerated his reaction to Princess' poke in the ribs by contracting his stomach and leaning forward. "Hey hey, little girl. No teasing, now."

Mark was silent, his gaze wide on Princess.

Damn, she knew.

Just how much did she know?

Shinji noted the look and chewed on his cheek. Obviously Mark was non-the-wiser about Princess' indiscretions – unlike Tiny, who was still sending him nasty voice messages and emails warning him to stay away from her.

But if Mark and Princess were doing the horizontal mambo, then why did she call him? Why did she sound so … desperate?

Shinji fixed his eyes on Princess as she strolled past the only muscle-bound pilot on his squadron. The pilot, called Roid-Boy by his team, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and threw them to her. "Here, P, I owe you a pack."

Princess caught the small box at her chest and gasped – trust the Rangers to blow her innocence to Hell. 

"She doesn't smoke," Mark muttered from his place in the room.

"No?" Rod-boy asked as he extended his hand to take the pack back. "Since when?

"Since ever."

Roid-Boy chuckled. "Are we talking about the same girl? Damn, I could have sworn the girl smoked like a chimney."

The silent pilot smirked and signed quickly to his team mates.

Both Shinji and Roid-Boy burst into laughter. "Damn, you're a sick-puppy," Shinji managed between snorts.

Mark was curious. "What did he just say?"

Princess glared over her shoulder at the mute pilot. "If it's what I think it is, I'll cut his hands off and he'll truly be a mute."

"Which is?"

Shinji thought now was the time to intervene. "Commander, mate. How jealous is the most jealous you've ever been in your life?"

Mark turned quickly to Shinji. "What?"

"I've got a revelation that is just going to drive you fuckin' insane."

Princess' head tilted and her eyes widened in absolute horror.

No, he wasn't….

Mark's curiosity was piqued, and he managed to flash a quick look at his third. One that conveyed worry it might involve her. "How … insane are talking here?"

"You are gonna die, man. I beat you to the punch, got the girl…and had one HELL of a ride." He smirked, noting Princess' look of absolute terror. "And I'm gonna ride her over, and over….and over. Fuck, it's out of this earth." He punctuated the 'over and over' with huge pelvic thrusts.

Snorts were heard from the other pilots. Mark's lip twitched and his hands balled in to fists at his side. He couldn't even look in the direction of the Swan … But he was ready to tear the hide of this mouthy little bastard in front of him.

"Bragging about it is going to get you into some serious, fucking trouble, Lieutenant."

He shrugged, "What's the point if you can't boast to the guys about the ultimate conquest?"

Princess' body shuddered. "Shin, please."

"It's not a competition, you smart-mouthed, arrogant sonova bitch."

"The Hell it isn't. I got chosen over you, man."

Roid-boy smirked at Princess. "Are you gonna call Med.? Or am I?"

"Oh God," she sighed in response. "He'll kill him."

Mark took a deliberately slow step towards Shinji, who had the biggest shit-eating grin known to man plastered across his face. "If I were you, I'd stop myself right there."

"And miss out on seeing your reaction? Hell no!" He slouched to one side and folded his arms across his chest. "I want to see your inadequate-for-the-task ass squirm."

"And feel my fist in your face, too?"

"Oh, that would still make it worth it, Commander." He started a stroll toward Princess, who was, by now, slouched so low she was almost sitting on the chair beside Roid-Boy.

Mark grabbed hold of Shinji's upper arm to stop his approach of the Swan. "Don't. Fucking. Say it. It's not right."

Shinji raised a brow. "Huh?" He flicked Mark's hand off him. "No touchie."

"Whether or not you bedded her is no one else's business, much less a bragging right." His eyes darkened, "if you so much as breathe it, I'll neuter you where you stand."

Shinji laughed in a challenging manner. "That a threat?"

"It's a promise."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about the X-315, you fuckin' idiot."

"The X-315?"

"Fuck, yeah, baby!" He repeated his pelvic thrust action.

Mark's entire demeanour changed. "No-o-o-o…way-y-y-y."

"What, you think I bumped uglies with Princess?" He winked at her, then let out a laugh. "Oh, I fuckin' WISH!"

Mark tapped his foot. "What else was I supposed to think?"

"Oh, and you really thought that I'd come in here and brag about it? Give me some credit, Jesus."

Mark shrugged, his blood pressure dropping back to normal. "So…how does she handle?"

"Like a god damn Thailand whore."

Princess raised a brow, "is that good, or bad?"

"Fucked if I know. It's just a saying, supposed to be good I 'spose."

Mark seemed completely calmed and fascinated by whatever Shinji had to say now. "So?"

"Beats the Hell out of your piece of shit."

"Impossible," he muttered jealously in defence of his jet. His head then tilted to one side. "Hey, how come you were chosen for the testing?"

"Cause I am a better pilot than you?" His eyes rose cheekily to Princess, who dropped and shook her head.

"I don't think so, asshole."

"Let's ask Prin, then." The mischief in his voice and the hint of what Shinji truly meant wasn't lost on Princess. "Whose better, eh? Me, or Mark?"

Roid-Boy coughed into his drink, the silent one silently laughed. Princess narrowed her eyes, then raised her hands in her own defence. "I … am so-o-o staying out of that one."

Mark smirked, then realization hit. "Hey, hang on. How would she know what kind of pilot you are? She's never flown with you."

"No-o-o-o," Shinji said very slowly, a hint of something in his voice. "Not in the air…"

Mark ignored it, obviously oblivious now that jets seemed to be the topic of conversation. "So. Is she here?"

Shinji dangled a set of keys in Mark's face. "Dry-dock hangar 3. Tiffany is up there refuelling and shit." He nudged him. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see you."

Mark felt a small moment of panic when he heard Princess let out a breath. "Uh, yeah-h-h. Maybe I'll wander down later."

Shinji let the keys swing from side to side. "Are you sure-e-e-e-e? We might have to leave soon-n-n."

Mark snatched the keys from his fingers. "Temptation's too great. I've got to see this!" He started to run from the room, then paused, skipped between feet and addressed Princess. "Uh, Prin. I … I'll see you later." He anxiously waited for her nod then bolted out of the room. "Make sure they……" the remainder of his sentence inaudible as he moved further form them.

Princess immediately rushed Shinji and punched his shoulder. "You. ASSHOLE!"

He let out a laugh and pulled her into a hug. She readily accepted the embrace. "Man, the ultimate mind-fuck. How could I resist?"

"God, Roid-Boy and I were gearing up to call base med."

He pulled her to the side and kept an arm draped comfortably over her shoulder. He made sure she kept both hands on his hips and dropped her head on his shoulder. "Babe, I can handle him well enough."

Roid Boy snorted, "bullshit. You ended up in the infirmary getting into a sparring session with him."

He flipped the bird at his team mate, then looked down at Princess. "So," he asked. "I got your message, everything okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah. I had one of those moments, you know?"

"Damn, and it's gone?"

She giggled. "Mark kinda … killed it for you."

"Are you and him... you know?"

She shook her head. "Baby-steps, Shin."

"Ahhhh, okay."

"But, now that you're here. You can help me out with something."

"Sexual?"

Her body nudged him. "One-track mind. Anywa-a-a-a-a-y. How much do you know about Cronus?"

Shinji shrugged and looked to his two team mates, one of whom offered him an identical shrug. "Not a great, fuckin' deal. He's a secretive old-fart. Why?"

"Well, the team and I are tired of this secretive crap. We are on a mission to find out as much information about him as we can."

"Wish I could help, Babe." He glanced up to his silent team mate, who signed rapidly. "Oh … really?"

Princess rolled her head to watch. "What's he saying?"

"Heh heh. He says he knows the passwords to the personnel files. We can probably hack into them from …." He paused and tilted his head as the pilot continued his hand signs. "Ranger HQ. That's not a real fuckin' help, man. Can't we do it from here?"

Roid Boy lit a cigarette and tossed his lighter, still lit, up and down in the air. "If we can hack from HQ, we can do it from that blue piece of shit you guys call a warship."

"Don't knock the Phoenix, Tiny can hear an insult to her from 100 miles. He'll hunt you down."

Shinji chewed on his cheek. "Tiff can hack into the Phoenix computer from the main computer here." He looked down at her accusing stare. "We had to, Babe. If we didn't do it that time, you guys would have been on the wrong trajectory for re-entry."

"Yeah, but did you have to change the voice program on the Phoenix to sound like PeeWee Herman? It's frightening hearing that voice when there's an alarm."

"Alarms are supposed to be scary."

She rolled her eyes. "Tiffany…Only Tiffany can do it?"

Shinji nodded. "Yeah, that a problem?"

She slouched. "Uh, yeah-h. She screwed Mark, then bragged about it for weeks. I don't really want to spend all night with her flirting with him while we try and raid the databanks."

"Ahh, I think we can keep her away from him."

She tapped at her teeth in thought. "But if you guys are here, that means Cronus and Anderson are, too. It'll be hard to get in without being seen."

Roid-boy piped up. "Use the AC ducts."

They both looked at him with tilted heads. "Huh?"

Roid Boy blew a puff of blue smoke into the air. "I thought you were a reconnaissance expert, P?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Then I'll blame your lust for the Wallaby over there on you not being able to figure out that you can sneak anywhere on this base through the AC ducts."

"I don't lust Shin."

"No, of course not."

Shinji rubbed his chin. "That….is a good idea."

Princess smiled. "So you guys are on board then?"

"Always up for stirring the pot, Babe." She then gave a sneaky grin. "On one condition."

Her brow rose. "No sex, so don't ask."

"Just one little kiss?" He pulled her to him and ran his fingers through his hair. His other hand nestled on her hip.

She sighed and raised her mouth to his to comply. Their lips met for only a nano-second before he was roughly pulled away from her by a hand much larger than he though Mark had.

"I thought I told you to stay away from her."

Shinji hit the wall, not too hard, then let out a long sigh. "Fuck, Big guy. You always walk in at the wrong time."

"Stay away from her you little piece of dirt."

Shinji rolled his eyes and grunted as he wandered over to Roid-Boy and leaned his hand on the back rest of the chair. Mark, he could possibly take on….not Tiny…. "Whatever."

Tiny frowned at Princess. "I thought we'd discussed this."

"It's not what you think, Tyne. We're just friends, that's all."

He ignored her, but glared down the Ranger pilot on question.

Jason's voice interrupted the suddenly uncomfortable silence. "Well, well. Look who the Colonel dragged in."

Shinji stood up straight and thrust his hand into his back pocket, producing a neatly folded piece of paper. "The latest stats, Jase. We're even at 27."

"Get off, there's no way you're up there with me."

"Read it and weep, Jase. I got you with a signature from Sarah."

Tiny growled low and dangerous, glaring at Princess.

"Sarah? Who the fuck is Sarah?"

"I reckon you'd know her … she's on the G-Force project." He dared not look at either Tiny, nor Princess.

Princess stammered and ushered the three pilots out of the room. "Uh, come on, guys. We should, probably get going on the mission."

Shinji made a finger gun and shot at Jason. "Cut off is two weeks, man. You'd better get crackin'."

The trio left the room leaving Tiny and Jason alone….It was time for their little chat.


	13. Chapter 13

As usual, flying was a form of meditation for Mark. After he had gotten used to the feel of the jet, he settled in to just enjoy flying it. After putting it through its paces, he was pleased to decide that his own Summit was the better craft.

It did, however, give him time to ponder over the conversation in the observation room. Particular, why had Prin called Shinji? And why when he turned up, had she been distressed?

He started to replay the conversation through his mind. He admitted that there was a lot of male posing being flung about, but certain things that were said he couldn't misinterpret.

Yeah - Shinji had been talking about this baby, but he'd also been talking about Princess as well. And Princess knew about him and Tiffany. That made him groan. It wasn't intentional on his part. Tiffany had, literally, jumped him. And he hadn't been strong enough to stop her.

Or hadn't wanted to. There was only so much that wanking could do to take the edge off - and whilst he wasn't going to screw around like certain Lieutenant Commander's he could name, he wasn't celibate either.

His stomach dropped as he realised that Princess wasn't either. He then flashed back to what she said in the room overlooking the training area.

She'd lied. Barefaced lied to him.

That little bitch. He was angry now. She'd lied to him not only in words, but also by implication.

She'd been fucking Shinji. And god knows who else. She'd put herself on display in a bloody wet T-Shirt competition. She smoked.

Did she even love him as she claimed? Or was that another lie?

He felt tears start as the pedestal he'd put her on exploded, showing her to be human after all.

His hands were shaking and he forced himself back into concentrating on bringing the jet back into the base.

He popped the canopy and climbed down - straight into the arms of Tiffany.

"So, how did she handle?"

He growled an answer about it being OK - but not as good as his. His eyes were fixed on the opening of her shirt, showing a good amount of flesh. Lush, inviting flesh.

She noticed and moved closer, twining an arm around his waist. He responded by pulling her into a fierce kiss, grinding his mouth and groin against her. Pulling away, he looked around the hangar and finally dragged her over to a small room that was usually used by the pilots as a handy ready room.

He slammed the door shut and was on her again, this time, his hands were pushing aside clothes, his mouth on her breasts.

"Strip," he ordered harshly, and she was already following his instructions even as he spoke. His own hands were busy unfastening his jeans, and, as she stepped out of her own trousers, he was on her, pushing her back onto the table.

He wasn't gentle. He wasn't loving. He was a young man whose ideal had just been shattered, and he was reacting to the loss of that ideal.

Tiffany didn't care. She'd wanted him even more after their previous encounters. He may not have had the experience of her other lovers, but he was definitely better endowed, and she felt him filling her as he thrust.

This was so different to last time. Then, he had been considerate, a little shy even.

Now, he was taking her and showing her the other side of him. The side that took on Spectra, the strength that made him the Commander of G-Force.

She loved it.

Realisation, however, hit as he climaxed. She felt a bitter disappointment inside as he cried out. He wasn't hers. Could never be hers.

"Princess!"


End file.
